First Loves and Sacrifices
by Tarafina
Summary: "Not how we expected it to end, right?" :Chlean:


**Title**: First Loves and Sacrifices  
**Category**: Supernatural/Smallville  
**Genre**: Humor/Fluff  
**Ship**: Dean/Other, Chloe/Dean  
**Rating**: PG  
**For**: luveskane  
**Word Count**: 1,423  
**Summary**: "Not how we expected it to end, right?"

Dean's eyes darted with anxious discomfort. Scrubbing his hand down his mouth, he cleared his throat, started a sentence, trailed off, tried again, failed, and finally just sighed. Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he settled his gaze on the beauty before him. "Not how we expected it to end, right?" A faint chuckle escaped him. "More of a whimper…"

The wind whistled about, rustling tree branches and reminding him of how eerily silent it was.

"We both knew this was coming…" He shrugged, kicking the dirt beneath him with his steel-toed boot. "I've been with her a couple years now." He snorted. "Who'd a thought I was the marrying type, right?" His thumb reached for and rubbed the metal band around his finger, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

Frustrated, he continued, "Look, with the situation we're in… I mean, it couldn't last forever. Me and you, we got history, but… Things are changing, the baby's almost here, and it's just… It's not safe, y'know?" He frowned, disappointment and loss weighing heavy on his shoulders. "It's not like… _goodbye_ though. I mean, there's weekends an-and she was heading out to Smallville next month anyway, so…" He grinned back at her, eyes taking in her long, sleek form with unadulterated desire. "It'll just be me an' you again, all right?"

His eyes darted off into the distance and reality settled in. "'Course we can't tell Chloe… She thinks I'm giving you up for good… Maybe one of the dumbest promises I've ever made."

Shaking his head, he crossed his arms over his chest and grinned as his memory spurned into action. "You remember… That time back in Austin, Texas?" He smirked. "Engine wouldn't start, got a werewolf on our tail, I thought we were beat… Heh… You came through though; you always did…"

Sobering, he frowned once more, eyes darting back to her. "We had some good times; unforgettable times." He half-smiled. "Put the backseat to good use, tried my best to always take care of ya… Still will, but… I can't keep takin' ya out; putting my family at risk..." Exhaling thickly, he walked a few paces away and growled, "I got responsibilities now… Bigger than me and you and… I love Chloe, I do. And I'm gonna love this baby, too. Which is why… Why I gotta put them first." He turned around, staring at her hopefully. "You understand that, right?"

He sighed, shoulders slumping.

"Dean?" a voice called out and he whirled, eyes darting, searching for the familiar face of his wife.

"Yeah, uh… Hold on…" Turning back to face her, he murmured, "We'll finish this later," before he hurried through the fence gate and into the backyard. Walking toward him was his very pregnant wife, her brow cocked as if she was sniffing out a new hunt with each passing second. "Hey… What are you doin' out here? Those stairs aren't safe."

Chloe blinked. "Stair. Singular. And I'm not going to get hurt walking the ten feet from our kitchen to the lawn…." She looked past him. "What were you doing?"

"Doing?" He shook his head. "Nothing." Meeting her, he turned her back around and started walking her toward the house. "Shouldn't you be on bedrest?"

She snorted. "No. Just because _you _think I exert myself too much doesn't mean I'm subject to spending the next week and a half in bed… Besides, if you're this hard to find, I'd starve to death."

He scoffed. "You could'a called."

She rolled her eyes. "You left for the bathroom a half hour ago and never came back… I thought that gas station chili had come back to haunt you."

He frowned, hand reaching for his stomach in bitter memory. "It did… a couple times."

She stared up at him, frowning. "Outside?"

"What? No… I just… had something to do…"

Sighing, her shoulders fell. "You promised you wouldn't burn protection symbols into the lawn!"

"I didn't!"

She stared at him sternly. "Or paint them on the face!"

He frowned. "Couldn't find the paint."

She rolled her eyes. "Dean, seriously… I know you're doing this for us but… We're fine. _More _than fine." Turning around, she gripped his forearms. "And I've been thinking… You know what we were talking about last week?"

His eyes darted outside. "Yeah…?"

"Well, I've changed my mind."

His lips pursed. "You… have?"

"Yes." She nodded.

"This isn't just a mood swing? You aren't getting my hopes up only to cry all over 'em and tell me I'm a bastard for wanting what we agreed I shouldn't want?" His eyes narrowed at her.

She snorted. "That happened _once_ and you've never gotten over it." Turning around, she walked away from him and into the kitchen, reaching for the fridge door. "I _told _you the smell of eggs made me nauseous... You had to know you were walking into a trap when I told you it was okay to get them for breakfast that morning…"

"You never tricked me this often before you got pregnant," he muttered, reaching for her and moving her carefully out of the way of the fridge and into a chair at the table before he returned to start making something for lunch. "Didn't know better, I'd say you were possessed…" He eyed her suspiciously while wrestling the lid off a jar of pickles.

Chloe grinned. "Get all your Christo's in now, while I'm in a good mood. Pull it later and you might have that cry-fest you've been waiting for."

"Christo," he replied and then with a glance at her stomach, added a second, "Christo."

"Dean!" Laughing, Chloe threw the nearest thing she could find at him; a lightweight pen that flew right past him.

"Hey, if it isn't _you_ acting this crazy, it's probably our spawn… With the Winchester luck, he could come out with horns. It's preemptive; you should be thanking me," he argued, nodding all the while.

"Uh-huh," she scoffed, rolling her eyes.

After presenting her with a salami, ham, turkey and pickle sandwich, she was going through a _meat craving _lately, he took a seat across from her.

Taking the monstrous sandwich up in both hands, she cocked a brow. "So, you gonna tell me what you were _really _doing back there?" she asked, before taking a giant bite out of her sandwich.

He pursed his lips. "I'll take Believable Excuses for $300, Alec…."

Still chewing, she shook her head. "What is _Not Gonna Happen?_"

He snorted. Leaning back in his chair, he sighed. "Sayin' my goodbyes."

Swallowing, her eyes turned toward the yard and then back. "Goodbye? Really? For a _half hour?_"

He frowned. "It's not easy… She was a big part of my life…"

Chloe half-smiled. "She say anything back?"

He glared at her lightly.

"What?" She laughed. At his disgruntled expression, she sighed. "Look, like I was saying, I've been rethinking this and… I don't think _ending it _is the right decision."

He perked, brows furrowed. "So I can keep her?"

She smiled at him, amused. "I never said you couldn't… You're the one who suggested she wasn't safe."

His eyes fell to her stomach protectively. "Not sure she is."

"So we'll change that," she decided, shrugging. "She's practically part of the family. I don't see why that should change." Taking another bite of her sandwich, content with her decision, she patted her stomach. "Whattya think, Baby Sullivan?" When a kick replied, she grinned with satisfaction.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Quit confusin' him, his last name's gonna be Winchester." Reaching over, he rubbed her belly affectionately. "Ain't that right, buddy?"

A second kick answered him and he smugly smirked at his wife.

"He has gas," she reasoned.

He laughed. "See, he's a Winchester all ready."

She rolled her eyes. "You're never getting chili from that place again."

He frowned. "It's good goin' in."

She shook her head in reply. Half-done her sandwich, she brushed the crumbs off her hands. "You gonna go say _Hello _now?"

His smile widened. "You're _serious? _You aren't gonna change your mind?"

"Just _go!_" she told him, waving him away.

Standing from his seat, he leaned over and kissed her hard with appreciation. "Thank you," he said, before running toward the door.

With a soft laugh, she watched him go. "See how easy to please he is, Baby Winchester? As if I've ever make him get rid of the Impala."

"Good news, Sweetheart! We're _back!_" Dean could be heard shouting to his sleek, black '67 Chevy Impala, the first love of his life.


End file.
